This is the 72nd episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. My father ran a store and that is where I spent all my time till Grade 6. Doing my homework. Serving customers. I then moved to my maternal grandparents’ house because I used to get along with my cousin who was a year older than me. We did everything together, and were best friends. We took turns studying: I was a night owl, and he was an early riser. Before I went to bed after studying all night, I woke him up. My mother was 44 when I was born, the same year my eldest brother got married. My sister-in-law becoming a part of our family was how my mother referenced my age. I liked making money, and was always a hustler. In Grade 7, I learnt to handle a tractor and helped my brother-in-law to plough, earning Rs10 a day. As I got better, he paid me more. By Grade 9, I was already making Rs500 per day, but had to slow down to prepare for my exams. From an early age I knew I did not want a 9-5 job. There just wasn’t enough money in it. I wanted to get into business, and compared my brother who worked in the post office and what businessmen made. It did not help that my brother was honest, and never took bribes. A friend and I made money selling cheap Chinese phones at a premium to our friends. We blasted music on the phones and pretended that we were giving them a discount. After SLC, I started teaching math and other subjects. I was soon a shareholder in the same school and in the evening I was involved in our family’s floriculture business, growing amaranth and marigold for garlands.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250831020844_1b54b999d67122a50c4c7e6204cc737bcc99bf2a68db6499a4566a7f61a880b4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250831020844_1b54b999d67122a50c4c7e6204cc737bcc99bf2a68db6499a4566a7f61a880b4" data-rendition-name="original" width="955" height="1314" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 72"> </figure>  It was then that a friend suggested we learn the Korean language. We could be earning significantly higher in Korea for similar efforts. I had no plans to go abroad but he convinced me. I did not know anything about Korea, and was scolded at the language institute when I asked someone to point Korea on the map.&nbsp; It was only there that I learnt you had to pass an exam for the Korean Employment Permit System (EPS), and pay for language classes. After a week, I decided it was not for me and dropped out. But my friend convinced me to give it one more try. I did not prepare much for the exam, and it was no surprise that I failed. But it was just by one mark, and people would pity me for failing “just by one mark”. It was a brand of failure. It hurt my ego. I had to turn things around by taking the exams seriously, and locked myself up to study hard.&nbsp; Even when we had visitors, my wife told them I was not home. If I was not in my room learning Korean, I would be with a group of ten of us test-takers comparing notes and practicing late into the night. The exam was difficult, but this time I passed, the only one in my group who did.&nbsp; As someone who never liked the idea of doing a job, I still had my doubts about going to Korea. It did not help that one of my acquaintances had returned a month after he had left, and he discouraged me from migrating given that I was already making good money in Nepal.&nbsp; But my wife suggested that I give it a shot since I had worked so hard for it. And if it really turned out not to be my cup of tea, I could always return. What did I have to lose, I thought, at least I would get to visit Korea. My job there was in an electrical company that made circuit boards. I worked all day, earned good money. In the evenings, I kept myself busy with my real estate business back in Nepal. I had learnt the tricks of the trade from fellow real estate agents back home, but at the time did not have the capital to invest.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250831020848_941e961e2045058f255ad89884b51faa7d2365c68236e5cbe573d63d769ac6c5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250831020848_941e961e2045058f255ad89884b51faa7d2365c68236e5cbe573d63d769ac6c5" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 72"> </figure>  In Korea, it helped that I had salary records that allowed me to get loans from financial institutions both in Korea and in Nepal. Ultimately, I started earning more from my real estate deals in Nepal than from my job in Korea. This was all thanks to my ability to take loans because of the EPS scheme. My wife has been managing the flower business while I was away. My finances grew stronger over the eight years I was in Korea. I paid off the loans that I had borrowed to buy land. But real estate did not satisfy me entirely. I wondered: what is my brand? What will I be known for? What is my contribution to society? Real estate is for wealth, but that is about it. I needed to sell one piece of land and use the revenue to start a venture. I took classes in business, and returned to Nepal six months ago and got back to my family’s ancestral roots in floriculture. In Nepal too, I am continuing the entrepreneurship training I had started in Korea with the Bridge International. Such exposure helps us reflect on our business such as our branding, vision, and proactive aspects like the importance of strong recordkeeping.&nbsp; I am now working to upgrade and expand my floriculture business. With a friend who is still in Korea I am building a cooling room to increase the shelf-life of flowers and other produce and set up a market in my village where others can sell their produce. Floriculture is our primary business, but it is seasonal and earns good money only during festivals like Tihar.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250831020848_a008ffeba13896e6918f68ff6e687c8fe11140d86a96f1ec11690547f2bcd415.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250831020848_a008ffeba13896e6918f68ff6e687c8fe11140d86a96f1ec11690547f2bcd415" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 72"> </figure>  So, I grow tomatoes to ensure year-round earnings. I also am engaged in other businesses like real estate and online shopping. I work round the clock in Nepal — a strong work ethic is something I picked up in Korea.&nbsp; My Korean bosses would work alongside us, that motivated us. I work just as hard in Nepal as I did in Korea. People here often ask me why I am pushing myself so hard. But making garlands comes easy to me, it is work my forebears were involved in. My childhood memories are about plucking flowers with my sister. I have a comparative advantage in this work. It comes naturally to me, it is easy and I enjoy it. And sometimes, if there are too many garlands to make, I can multitask while holding meetings. My fingers just fly. I am good at this job, but my wife is even better and faster.&nbsp; When there is too much load, we can also outsource the work. To be known as the flower guy would be great personal branding. The मखमली guy. Or the सयपत्री guy. I decided to come home for just this with a one-way ticket. “अब पासा: जाँदैन ल्हासा!” &nbsp;

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The flower guy

The brouhaha between the tech bros led by Elon Musk and Donald Trump’s nativist supporters over whether to restrict skilled immigrants reflects a deep underlying tension between the politics and economics of migration.&nbsp;
Today’s rich economies owe much of their success to migrants who, by choice or through coercion, laboured on their plantations, factories, mines, and homes. Even now, these countries continue to rely on low- and high-skilled migrant workers to fuel economic growth and dynamism by taking on jobs that native-born workers are unwilling or unable to fill.
Far from displacing local workers, migration tends to boost employment among native-born citizens. Studies have consistently shown that countries with significant foreign-born populations experience faster and more sustained GDP growth. In the US, migrants paid an estimated <a href="https://map.americanimmigrationcouncil.org/locations/national/" target="_blank">$579 billion</a> in federal, state, and local taxes in 2022.
Research also shows that migration does not negatively affect local workers’ wages. Since lower-skilled migrants often take undesirable jobs, such as those involving long night shifts, zero-hours contract work, and heavy labour, their main competitors are usually other migrants.
None of this seems to matter to Trump, whose <a href="https://www.bloomberg.com/features/2024-trump-interview/" target="_blank">unsubstantiated claims</a> include the charge that immigrants are taking “Black jobs.” Rather than competing with native-born Americans, migrants have contributed significantly to US job creation.&nbsp;
Many countries depend so heavily on migrants that their economies would collapse without them. This is especially true in some Gulf countries. Migrants make up roughly <a href="https://comparativemigrationstudies.springeropen.com/articles/10.1186/s40878-024-00390-3" target="_blank">90%</a> of the labor force in the UAE and Qatar.&nbsp;
Elsewhere, foreign workers often fill critical labour gaps, doing jobs that require specialised skills, such as programming, plumbing, or surgery, while lower-skilled migrants handle vital tasks that locals are unwilling to perform like fruit picking and elder care.
Thriving economies naturally attract more migrants, who, in turn, boost productivity and fuel economic growth. This virtuous cycle explains why cities with the highest migrant concentrations are among the world’s most vibrant and prosperous.
Anti-immigration politicians often portray migrants as a burden on public budgets. In fact, foreign workers tend to contribute more in taxes than they receive in benefits. Even undocumented migrant workers make significant contributions to government finances.
Refugees, unlike economic migrants, can sometimes become a burden on social systems. But this is largely due to restrictive immigration policies in countries like the UK, where asylum seekers are prohibited from working and forced to rely on public services.
Increased migration also offers clear demographic advantages. Most advanced economies, as well as many developing countries, including China, now have birth rates below replacement levels, which, combined with rising life expectancy, have led to rapid population aging.&nbsp;
By 2050, the number of people aged 60 and older worldwide is <a href="https://www.oxfordmartin.ox.ac.uk/publications/migration-and-the-economy-economic-realities-social-impacts-and-political-choices" target="_blank">expected to double</a> to more than two billion. Workers will be required to pay the taxes that sustain social systems and perform the growing range of jobs that cannot be automated or done remotely, like elder care, personal services, and hospitality.
But there appears to be little correlation between demographic realities and public attitudes. Countries with the world’s lowest fertility rates – such as Poland, Hungary, Japan, and South Korea – are among those most opposed to migration.&nbsp;
Nevertheless, public attitudes toward migration can and do change as people grow more accustomed to foreigners in their midst and begin to recognize the necessity of migrant labour.
Migration provides two key ingredients of a dynamic economy: a growing pool of highly educated workers and a diverse workforce that fosters innovation and entrepreneurship.&nbsp;
To be sure, not all migrants are exceptional or even law-abiding. Even so, criminality rates among migrants are typically lower than those of native-born citizens.
But if migration offers such clear benefits, why do so many people and politicians oppose it? The disconnect between economic reality and political discourse is reflected in surveys showing that people <a href="https://ourworldindata.org/data-insights/many-people-overestimate-the-percentage-of-immigrants-in-their-country" target="_blank">tend to overestimate</a> the size of their countries’ <a href="https://www.citigroup.com/global/insights/migration-and-the-economy" target="_blank">migrant populations</a> and in the anti-immigrant rhetoric of parties across the political spectrum.&nbsp;
Politicians, often assisted by audience-hungry media, have learned that sensationalised images of foreigners ‘flooding’ or ‘swamping’ their countries attract those who confront job insecurity, limited access to public services, or unaffordable housing. Even immigrants and their descendants are not immune to the influence of such messaging.
Walls and fences have long been a favored tool of anti-immigration politicians. But while they serve as powerful symbols of sovereignty, physical barriers are often counterproductive. Instead of deterring migration, they tend to trap as many people within a country’s borders as they keep out.
There are currently more than <a href="https://www.americanimmigrationcouncil.org/research/mass-deportation" target="_blank">13 million undocumented workers</a> in the US, many of whom have been in the country for decades. Deporting them en masse would undermine the economy, harming US-born workers in the process.&nbsp;
Industries like construction, <a href="https://cmsny.org/agricultural-workers-rosenbloom-083022/" target="_blank">agriculture</a>, and <a href="https://www.latimes.com/food/story/2020-05-26/meatpacking-industry-immigrant-undocumented-workers" target="_blank">meat processing</a>, where undocumented workers account for a significant share of the labour force, would be hit particularly hard. The result would be sharp increases in housing and food prices, as well as the costs of elder and infant care, hospitality, and other services.
Implementing a mass deportation program would face <a href="https://ohss.dhs.gov/sites/default/files/2024-06/2024_0418_ohss_estimates-of-the-unauthorized-immigrant-population-residing-in-the-united-states-january-2018%25E2%2580%2593january-2022.pdf" target="_blank">enormous</a> legal, logistical, and economic obstacles that would likely take years to overcome.
Much of the migration debate is focused on the impact of migrants on the countries that receive them, but, as the example of remittances suggests, the effects on the countries they leave are equally important – and not necessarily positive.&nbsp;
While India, China, and the Philippines <a href="https://www.statista.com/chart/4015/the-top-countries-for-highly-educated-migrants/" target="_blank">produce</a> the largest number of educated migrants, regions like Sub-Saharan Africa, the Caribbean, and Central America lose a far higher proportion of their university graduates.&nbsp;
As migrants gain skills and income, they often channel these resources back to their home countries, bringing both expertise and investments that foster economic development.&nbsp;
In many developing economies, remittances sent by migrants abroad exceed aid and investment combined. In <a href="https://www.investmentmonitor.ai/features/lebanon-remittance-dependent-country-world/" target="_blank">Lebanon</a>, they account for 28% of GDP, and between 32% and 48% of GDP in <a href="https://knomad-ois.assyst.in/publication/migration-and-development-brief-39" target="_blank">Tajikistan, Tonga, and Samoa</a>. (In Nepal it is 24% of the GDP.)&nbsp;
These funds have a transformative impact, supporting investments in education, health, housing, and productive assets such as seeds, tractors, and sewing machines. Consequently, communities with high migration rates are often better off economically than they would be otherwise.
While studies show that migrants tend to achieve at least some of their aspirations, many face abuse and danger even after they reach their destinations, enduring social and economic exclusion, xenophobia, loneliness, and violence.
Moreover, migrants often take on dangerous jobs that local workers avoid. Migrant women, in particular, are frequently employed as cleaners, cooks, and caregivers – isolated and insecure jobs often lacking basic protections.
The idea of open borders may seem politically suicidal nowadays, but they were largely the norm until the twentieth century. The EU’s Schengen area, which allows free movement across member states, demonstrates how such systems can work effectively.
The anti-immigration sentiment sweeping the US and many other countries contrasts with the growing recognition among economists that cross-border migration, when managed properly, can benefit host and source countries alike.&nbsp;
So far, the economists have been ignored. Increasingly restrictive policies targeting migrants from developing economies have jeopardised an essential lifeline for those seeking to escape poverty, conflict, and destitution while damaging the economies that shut the door on them.
Crafting a more humane and open immigration system, one that maximises opportunities while mitigating costs, &nbsp;remains one of the biggest challenges facing policymakers.
First, voters and political leaders must acknowledge that migration is, and always has been, a fact of life. Its history is one of profound loss and sorrow, but also of new opportunities and extraordinary progress. © Project Syndicate
<a href="https://iangoldin.org/" target="_blank">Ian Goldin</a> is Professor of Globalization and Development at the University of Oxford and the author of The Shortest History of Migration (<a href="http://oldstreetpublishing.co.uk/100/the-shortest-history-of-migration" target="_blank">Old Street Publishing</a>, 2024, <a href="https://theexperimentpublishing.com/catalogs/winter-2025/the-shortest-history-of-migration/" target="_blank">The Experiment</a>, 2025).

The truth about migration

Nepal is set to lift its ban on domestic workers migrating to West Asia, starting with a pilot agreement with <a href="https://kathmandupost.com/money/2023/06/14/uae-requests-nepal-to-resume-sending-domestic-helpers" target="_blank">the United Arab Emirates (UAE)</a>. This decision marks a major victory for <a href="https://apwld.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/01/AMKAS-NEPAL-final.pdf" target="_blank">advocacy groups</a>, <a href="https://www.fairrecruitmenthub.org/sites/default/files/2023-10/wcms_451050.pdf" target="_blank">human rights organisations</a>, <a href="https://www.ilo.org/publications/no-easy-exit-%E2%80%93-migration-bans-affecting-women-nepal" target="_blank">the ILO</a>, <a href="https://www.worecnepal.org/content/340/2022-05-18" target="_blank">activists</a>, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/safer-migration-for-women" target="_blank">media</a>, and <a href="https://www.degruyter.com/document/doi/10.1515/til-2022-0017/html?lang=en&amp;srsltid=AfmBOoowfsJ6whGxR5B4vGFYhAbIaJgRdqoSFsvgciRPPrmNHncBAzFx" target="_blank">scholars</a> who have campaigned against the restriction, saying <a href="https://www.brunel.ac.uk/about/brunel-public-policy/news-and-events/news/Policy-briefs/Societal-challenges/Policy-Brief-Reducing-Vulnerability-to-Exploitation-of-Nepali-Migrant-Domestic-Workers-%E2%80%93-Dr-Ayushman-Bhagat" target="_blank">it increases the vulnerability of workers to exploitation</a>.
This legally binding agreement with a country that employs hundreds of thousands of Nepali domestic workers should be a cause for celebration, but lifting the migration ban on a pilot basis raises pressing questions.&nbsp;
How will the government select the 5,000 domestic workers? How will it reach prospective workers? And what provisions will be made for those migrating to the UAE without permits?
We also need to look at how the government plans to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-plans-to-reintegrate-returning-workers">reintegrate returnee workers</a>, and engage rights organisations, activists, and scholars in the consultation and negotiation process, and recognise unrecognised Nepali migrant domestic workers already in the UAE.
The lack of information on Nepali domestic workers abroad stems from long-standing migration bans imposed by the government as a protectionist policy. For years, <a href="https://comparativemigrationstudies.springeropen.com/articles/10.1186/s40878-021-00250-4" target="_blank">Nepal has imposed various degrees and forms of bans on domestic workers' mobility</a>, mainly affecting women, culminating in <a href="https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=4175277" target="_blank">a blanket ban since 2017</a>. This was eased in 2020 with the <a href="https://www.ilo.org/publications/comprehensive-analysis-policies-and-frameworks-governing-foreign-employment" target="_blank">introduction of seven preconditions</a>, but it only reinforced barriers instead of offering a solution.
Despite the restrictions, <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0962629822000129" target="_blank">Nepalis continued migrating for domestic work</a>, both through formal and informal channels. Many <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/women-on-the-move-89kx6lii">resort to illicit routes</a>, making it nearly impossible to count their numbers. Some reports estimate between <a href="https://ekantipur.com/en/news/2024/09/20/amid-the-ban-at-least-60000-women-are-domestic-workers-in-the-gulf-32-59.html" target="_blank">60,000</a>-<a href="https://brunel.figshare.com/articles/online_resource/Reducing_Vulnerability_to_Exploitation_of_Nepali_Migrant_Domestic_Workers/26892934/1?file=48931666" target="_blank">100,000</a>, but anecdotal evidence suggests that the figure could be as high as 500,000. This scale reflects the immense vulnerability of Nepali domestic workers abroad.
<a href="https://kathmandupost.com/columns/2024/08/10/who-benefits-from-migration-bans" target="_blank">Many feel abandoned by those meant to protect and fight for them</a>. Nepal embassies in destination countries fail to support them after they flee abuse and exploitation, especially as they are undocumented.
In many cases, employers confisticate passports or documents of the workers. Stripped of their identity, they rely on the Nepali diaspora or agents to navigate the host country as ‘illegal immigrants’ facing risks of raids, criminalisation, and further exploitation. Many returnee Nepali women have spent months in jail in Gulf countries before being deported back to Nepal.
The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/two-decades-of-debate-on-female-migration">vulnerabilities and exploitation of migrant domestic workers</a> are discussed in the media, policy, and academic circles, but their deaths are consistently overlooked. Migrant worker fatalities have become synonymous with just male workers, and there is a troubling silence surrounding the deaths of systematically disadvantaged women who are domestic workers.
They often die by suicide, due to exploitation, or from work-related illnesses. Yet, migration bans and the lack of political will to acknowledge the lives, labour, health, and deaths of these women prevent justice for them and their families in the face of tragedy.
Many who die never have their bodies returned to Nepal. For those who are repatriated, it is often due to the intervention of domestic worker organisations in Nepal or the diaspora.&nbsp;
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-town-to-ban-mothers-migrating">Migration bans</a> worsen this tragedy, making it nearly impossible for families to report missing or deceased loved ones for<a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/pdf/10.1111/anti.12882" target="_blank"> fear of being criminalised as "traffickers"</a>.
The exploitation and deaths of migrant <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/history-of-female-im-mobility-in-nepal">female domestic workers</a> are ignored due to the grip of patriarchy, class, and caste on Nepal's labour and migration policies. These policies control their mobility, devalue their labour, and fail to provide dignified, sustainable jobs, making their bodies disposable.&nbsp;
As a result, <a href="https://www.brunel.ac.uk/research/Centres/Global-Lives/Forced-Migrant-Labourers/Migrant-Domestic-Workers-of-Nepal" target="_blank">many Nepali women feel abandoned</a> by their state, society, and families. Yet, despite this, they never abandon Nepal or their loved ones.
Many Nepali women migrate to break the cycle of <a href="https://ekantipur.com/opinion/2024/08/06/emergence-of-caste-slavery-among-nepalese-women-27-27.html" target="_blank">caste-based discrimination and gender violence by sending remittances for their children's education</a>. Hence, when a female domestic worker dies, it’s not just their family that suffers, the impact extends to their children and the nation’s future.&nbsp;
These sacrifices of these women, crucial to Nepal’s socio-economic progress, must be acknowledged, valued, and protected. The government must prioritise unconditional recognition of all domestic workers abroad to address the impact of exploitation and deaths of Nepali female migrant domestic workers.
It must inform the Nepali diaspora that it will unconditionally recognise all migrant domestic workers, regardless of documentation status: perhaps the only way to count them abroad.
As Nepal prepares to lift the migration ban on domestic workers, it must not abandon its most vulnerable citizens. This neglect heightens their vulnerability to exploitation and death, and threatens their families in times of tragedy.
&nbsp;We urge the government to raise this issue during the negotiations with the UAE, request immunity for these workers, and take the crucial step of counting domestic workers through Nepali embassies and consulates.
Once this step is taken, the government must expand its welfare net, such as providing insurance coverage, to safeguard workers and their families in worst-case scenarios. Insuring hundreds of thousands of Nepali domestic workers is not just protection, it is an investment in the well-being and future of Nepal.
We hope the pilot program leads to the full lifting of migration bans. But before we celebrate, we must not forget the hundreds of thousands of undocumented Nepali migrant domestic workers already in the Gulf. They are citizens too, and it is the duty of the state not to abandon them.
Ayushman Bhagat, PhD, is a lecturer in Political Geography at Brunel University of London, and Sunita Mainali is the Executive Director of WOREC, Nepal.

Ban on female migrant workers to be lifted

This is the 54th edition of Diaspora Diaries, a regular column about migration in Nepali Times. <h2>Kumar BK</h2> I have enjoyed playing the flute since I was a young boy. I used to play it in the forest while tending to my cattle or collecting firewood near my village in Khotang. But I am a self-taught musician, I have never played professionally. I know I am not as good as other professional flute players like those I often watch on YouTube. Reaching that skill level requires professional training. It took me a lot of practice to reach my present level. My learning was interrupted because of going overseas. Growing up, my father was always abroad: first in Malaysia and then Qatar. I stayed with my maternal uncle, and childhood was a constant struggle. I had to help my grandparents with the family business, so I only got to attend school thrice a week. Even then, I somehow passed Grade 12. My father returned for good, and in 2014 it was my turn to go and work in Malaysia. I did not manage to save much because of household expenses. My brother has health problems, and a lot of my savings went for his treatment. After three years in Malaysia, I went to Dubai in 2020. Because of a bad contract and Covid-19, things did not work out as I anticipated. During the lockdown I spent a few months in my room without work or pay. Eventually I did get a good job, but after two years my contract was not renewed because of slow business. I came home last year and am now headed to Qatar. Let’s see how things go this time. When my father was away, he used to write home once every few months. We received news of his well-being with much relief. Times have changed now.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241214021252_bd2e1b0d8050a884a0efe8ae78bd0d95053424b62ebe6d5bb5a086b07b4bcd8c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241214021252_bd2e1b0d8050a884a0efe8ae78bd0d95053424b62ebe6d5bb5a086b07b4bcd8c" data-rendition-name="original" width="963" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Kumar BK DD 54"></figure>  With my father sending money, we were able to afford household expenses. Before my father left, we lived in a bamboo shed with a small room, but now we have a house and land. He lifted us to a state where we no longer have to worry about affording food or a roof on our heads. Other hardships remain. As a son of a migrant, there was always the expectation that he would bring us a mobile phone. It is only later after working overseas that I realised it is not so easy. My overseas experience did not lead to much progress. We had many unanticipated expenses that took precedence: someone falling ill, someone falling down and needing hospital care. Random expenses left few savings. I have now realised that it is difficult to make progress from migration alone if we do not have other ways to supplement our overseas earnings. If households back home can cover basic expenses like food, overseas earnings can be channeled to more productive investment to uplift the family. If remittance from one family member is the sole income source, then we migrate just to survive. Migrant workers like me have just one goal: to earn as much as possible in a limited timeframe. I am headed overseas again with the same thought. Back in my village, I look for a quiet, shaded spot in a nearby forest to play my flute by myself while tending to livestock. I am often away now, but my neighbours in the village say that when they hear the sound of a flute from the forest, they know I am home. I am taking my flute with me to Qatar. I will practice in my room in my free time. Playing it in my room will give me comfort. <h2>Deepak Darji</h2> I was very young when I lost my father. After that my mother also started falling ill. Before that, our family was doing just fine financially. My childhood was not easy because of her poor health and my father’s absence. School was not really a priority. I had to make sure my mother had the medicines keeping her alive. I had household chores like cooking. My mother often reminded me to go to school, but how could I? The responsibilities were on my shoulders from a young age. At least now, she is getting a cash grant from the government that has eased things a bit. Over the years, I have been doing odd jobs. Things are not easy and finding regular work is difficult in the village. As a musician, I am part of a पञ्चे बाजा troupe that plays at weddings and other rituals. If the event is far from where we live, we make about Rs4,000 and if close by, it can be up to Rs3,000. The frequency of events varies. Some months we have four or five, while at other times it is less. Over a decade ago, I went to Dubai but did not get to work or earn as planned despite spending almost Rs200,000 in fees. I had to rely on fellow villagers in Dubai for help, but they told me this was not a sustainable way to live overseas. They were right. I came home before the end of my contract, and was heavily in debt because I could not save enough to pay my recruitment loans. In fact, I had to borrow additional money to sustain myself while in Dubai.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241214021252_9c68e45a42623952ca8be0e97e8f45f10851f90e5ab33b3646ccbca962666f06.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241214021252_9c68e45a42623952ca8be0e97e8f45f10851f90e5ab33b3646ccbca962666f06" data-rendition-name="original" width="720" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Deepak Darji"></figure>  After returning, I have migrated to various places in India including Shillong, Lucknow, Delhi and Mumbai to work in construction or hotels. I also did short term police duties during the election in Nepal, and the earnings helped while getting to serve the country. I have tried to go overseas again but the first failed experience left a deep scar in my psyche. It was difficult to trust people who said they would find me jobs. I also did not have the Rs300,000 fee they demanded for a job in the Gulf. For Malta they wanted up to Rs800,000. I could not afford such high costs. Now, I have six children to take care of along with my wife and mother. I was finally able to go overseas because the job did not require any recruitment fees. After all, we migrate in the hope that something will work out. Just about everyone is leaving from my village. The well-to-do ones go to Japan and Australia, and people like us to the Gulf. I am taking my shehnai oboe to Qatar to practice during breaks, or when I am bored. Eventually, I will have to come home and resume performing at events, so I cannot afford to get rusty. I had previously taken it to India as well and fellow Nepalis would sometimes ask me to play after a hard day’s work. Our house in the village is known as the ‘radio house’ because the radio is always on. When my grandfather was alive, people would come over to listen to farming programs and radio dramas. He used to encourage fellow villagers to adopt the farming practices that the radio programs talked about. Even today, the radio plays throughout the day, and if it ever stops, people are startled by the silence and say: “कस्तो सुनसान भयो”. Diaspora Diaries is a Nepali Times collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad.

Migrating with the music of Nepal

“I am headed to Atlantis the Royal to advance my career … it is my dream to work there,” said Kanchan Rai. She passed her apprenticeship interview at one of the most luxurious properties in the UAE, and credits it to her late mother.&nbsp; She says, “I can feel my mother watching over me. After returning to Nepal, I want to start a restaurant in her name.” Other young Nepalis recruited recently by the company Vision and Value shared similar excitement about star chefs at Atlantis they would work with, the multinational colleagues, and opportunities to learn new skills.&nbsp; “Atlantis the Royal in my CV will set me up for life,” beamed another candidate.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024113015110_9280b5bd5b524b83d114714e2f58d9dd0faeea35de3f8e1c761f579372d5819a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024113015110_9280b5bd5b524b83d114714e2f58d9dd0faeea35de3f8e1c761f579372d5819a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Labour mobility"> <figcaption>Kanchan Rai with her colleagues.</figcaption> </figure>  Migrating out of ‘compulsion’ is a common theme in Nepal’s public discourse. But here, बाध्यता as a driver for migration was not a prominent feature, in fact it barely came up.&nbsp; Upward mobility during migration merits more attention. Reputable employers offer opportunities for cross-training and career advancement.&nbsp; Seven years ago, Bikash Tripathi went to the UAE to work as a packing staff. A year into his contract, he used his month-long break to cross-train and five promotions later now works as a pastry chef managing a multinational team of eight.&nbsp; “I was always preparing for the next job when I was working, even if it meant using my holidays or covering for colleagues when they were absent. My supervisors took notice,” says Tripathi, who wants to open a restaurant on return to Nepal. “In addition to saving money, I am glad my parents now have financial freedom and don’t have to worry about making ends meet like they did,” he says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024113015114_739c801ebf914dd055335c39a5c9adcf974de2cc31a45f4c43a50c5dc9d904a3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024113015114_739c801ebf914dd055335c39a5c9adcf974de2cc31a45f4c43a50c5dc9d904a3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Labour mobility"> <figcaption>Pastry chef Bikash Tripathi manages a multinational team of eight in the UAE.</figcaption> </figure>  Some motivated workers invest in their own upskilling. Dharmendra Sah went as a labourer to Qatar at a salary of 700 Riyal. When he left seven years later he was working as a lifting supervisor and earning 6000 Riyals because he followed his colleague’s advice to take a training course.&nbsp; “I did not know what work I would be doing overseas or what my future had in store for me,” he recalls. “I paid 1000 riyals from my own pocket for the training, but it was worth it because it opened up better opportunities.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024113015114_46e72c40ad7707a0abb31a3da82ca2171e5f52c885c1ac2ba8b6753577453380.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2024113015114_46e72c40ad7707a0abb31a3da82ca2171e5f52c885c1ac2ba8b6753577453380" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Labour mobility"> <figcaption>Lifting supervisor Dharmenda Sah who tained and upskilled there abroad.</figcaption> </figure>  The hard-earned perception that Nepalis are loyal and hard-working works to their advantage. But also important is the role of a trusted labour mobility industry to attract the best employers.&nbsp; Ultimately it is the recruiters who matchmake workers and employers. While the internet and more awareness among workers may gradually decrease reliance on them, for now recruitment is heavily intermediated. Factors like under-the-table commissions play a role in helping recruiters bag job demands from overseas employers. These costs are eventually borne by workers as recruitment fees. The competition can be unhealthy with thousands of recruiters from other countries competing against each other.&nbsp; In this race-to-the-bottom, standing out as good actors and responsible businesses can be difficult. Strong credentials are needed, including international licenses and accreditations, marketing and research skills, thorough audits, references from previous clients, capacity to screen and mobilise the right candidates, among others.&nbsp; These aspects of building a strong labour mobility industry have not received adequate policy attention in Nepal. The government also needs to engage more proactively with host country industry associations, employers, and government counterparts.&nbsp; Recruiters often struggle to have a direct approach with employers and instead themselves rely on intermediaries. Interviews with workers in senior positions in the hospitality sector overseas show that Nepal’s recruitment process is rife with bureaucratic hurdles that dissuade employers looking to hire in small numbers.&nbsp; For example, a hotel looking to hire a chef or operation manager would rather not hire from Nepal as it is significantly easier and quicker to do so from the Philippines or India. While these delays are less problematic for bulk hiring, they become a major obstacle for smaller recruitment efforts, or vacancies that need to be filled quickly even when employers are willing to cover all costs and offer competitive salary packages. Attracting good employers to Nepal is not only helpful for migrants’ financial and career growth, but is a way to prevent abuses in the first place. The risk of wage theft or contract infringement is reduced when reputable companies hire directly, and in the event of such incidents, the likelihood of corrective action is higher. Attracting quality employers should be central to Nepal’s foreign employment policy. Setting up migrants for success overseas also means preparing them for success upon return. After working abroad as a rope access cleaner, Rudra Bahadur Gurung established the Asset Integrity Group in Kathmandu, providing internationally accredited training and licensing to both Nepali and non-Nepali migrants seeking to upskill during their vacations.&nbsp; Shiva Sharan Khatri returned to Nepal after working in hotels in Qatar, the UAE, and Seychelles to set up Sankalpa Management Facilities Service, a cleaning company that now employs over 80 workers.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024113015114_91f493ca4928b2a10de1dbfb0e4bdf6b178a416ca27b437a6d49ad12694cca03.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2024113015114_91f493ca4928b2a10de1dbfb0e4bdf6b178a416ca27b437a6d49ad12694cca03" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Labour mobility"> <figcaption>Rudra Sharan Khatri returned to set up a cleaning company which employs over 80 people. </figcaption> </figure>  Both Rudra and Shiva began their migration journeys in low-paying positions and leveraged their overseas experiences to create successful enterprises at home. Not only did they earn more, but also applied their experience in their business enterprises back home. A World Bank study in Bangladesh has shown how temporary migration can help migrant workers overcome credit constraints so they can invest in business creation. Unfortunately, this ‘continuum’ is lacking in many migrant workers. Take Gyanendra’s story. His father was the first to migrate to Qatar and villagers called him ‘Arabe Kafle’ because he has moved across Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, and is now headed to Dubai.&nbsp; Gyanendra had to start from scratch each time, and as a cleaner in his new job in the UAE will work for the same basic salary as younger peers migrating for the first time. Remigration is common from Nepal, but many workers like Gyanendra struggle to build on previous experiences. While they can still use earnings to meet household expenses back home, professional growth takes a backseat with each migration episode. In some case, they are compelled to even accept lower wages and benefits.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024113015114_e28445dccaa225fd6699053d8e99b0374b7287af5f20c0d584ed3bb6d652e20d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2024113015114_e28445dccaa225fd6699053d8e99b0374b7287af5f20c0d584ed3bb6d652e20d" data-rendition-name="original" width="236" height="326" loading="lazy" alt="Labour mobility"> <figcaption>Gyanendra's father ‘Arabe Kafle’.</figcaption> </figure>  The bar is currently set very low, and many workers worry if they will get the promised job, or be able to pay off recruitment loans. Nepalis need reliable employers and recruiters so ‘good migration outcome’ is not just simply about workers getting the promised job or wages, but about attaining their full potential.&nbsp; Outgoing workers need better guidance to make the most of their overseas opportunity. They currently are required to take pre-departure orientation training courses that cover basic do’s and don'ts.&nbsp; But also needed is practical career guidance to improve job readiness with advice on cross-training, building soft skills, networking, promotions so they can make the most of their migration with long-term growth.&nbsp; Successful returnees like Rudra and Shiva would be stellar mentors for younger workers. Exposure, work ethic, learning, skills, technology transfer, and networks are ‘social remittances’ and can be positive gains for Nepal besides financial remittances. &nbsp;

Upasana Khadka

Not just financial, but social remittances

&nbsp;This is the 53rdedition of Diaspora Diaries, a regular column about migration in Nepali Times. I was the first migrant to the Gulf from my village of Chagariya of Dhanusha district. We had heard of people who had gone to Saudi Arabia from neighbouring villages and done well for themselves.&nbsp; There were five children to feed and raise, and we did not have much land. Foreign employment seemed like a good choice. After I left in 1992, many others from my village also became migrant workers, including relatives. I have vivid memories of the day I left home. The whole village showed up to drop me off at the bus station. It was like a wedding. My family members wept, they did not know if I would come back alive. There was so much uncertainty. Nowadays migrating has become so common that people come and go without anyone knowing.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112410118_c15bcbb869d4335ebf5c6bc91ae754982453df2e180299b03eb3f198f8c7c327.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024112410118_c15bcbb869d4335ebf5c6bc91ae754982453df2e180299b03eb3f198f8c7c327" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> <figcaption>Ram Dhani Yadav with his family.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112113110_19fd8eadc8fe5ea082dc8ad899dd19643daca0bc7638c1db6e7175a56b56e9dd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024112113110_19fd8eadc8fe5ea082dc8ad899dd19643daca0bc7638c1db6e7175a56b56e9dd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1768" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> </figure>  Getting on the plane was scary. I had a window seat and the flight attendant helped us with our seat belts and offered us food. I chose the vegetarian meal, and even though they offered beer, I stuck to Dew. Someone from the company was waiting for us at Dammam airport. And the heat! It burnt all the hair on my head. It was impossible without AC. But even in Nepal the heat is suffocating now, and it is hard working on the farm. Seems like we imported not just money, but also the heat from Saudi Arabia. After a couple of months as a labourer, I lost interest in the work. Luckily, I got a job as a company barber since I had experience. I cut the hair of fellow workers from Nepal, India, Pakistan, Korea and the Philippines.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112410118_e8c60f57bd767053f067400da4fcf76514662d4bd418a011b72a30356a3633d8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2024112410118_e8c60f57bd767053f067400da4fcf76514662d4bd418a011b72a30356a3633d8" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> <figcaption>Barbers' tools that Yadav used after he got a job as a company barber in Saudi Arabia.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112410118_ff2a87da06735fa254b9a10e35fa5163527fbe939421b875150dd02b9adde17c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2024112410118_ff2a87da06735fa254b9a10e35fa5163527fbe939421b875150dd02b9adde17c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> <figcaption>Yadav with the mirrior he used for his side-job as a barber.</figcaption> </figure>  &nbsp;The workers did not have to pay, but if they liked it they gave me handsome tips, fruit juice or even a crate of canned Pepsi. I chatted in Hindi with the Indians and Pakistanis. Those working in scaffolding, welding or drivers earned more and tipped better. Low paid workers left less tips, but I did not mind. I worked in the company’s hair salon which had a fancy revolving chair and big mirror. For off hours and holidays, I had my own makeshift barber corner in camp as my side hustle. I bought my own mirror, hung it on a rod and my clients sat on a stool. I would also drop by one of the salons in the market to earn some extra cash on our days off. Times were different back then. There were no mobiles and my wife had to travel a long way to receive calls on a CDMA phone from Ram Dayal’s shop at a pre-arranged date and time. The calls were brief because they were expensive.&nbsp; We had more detailed communications through cassette tapes that we sent each other. Whenever I felt homesick, I listened to the voices of my wife and children over and over again – especially the girls who were always loud and chirpy.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112113110_d91691006f5ab08532b5a2e76e737c2dfd9edcff175bd5617f9053a4269f17ce.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2024112113110_d91691006f5ab08532b5a2e76e737c2dfd9edcff175bd5617f9053a4269f17ce" data-rendition-name="original" width="2056" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> <figcaption>This is the cassette tape case Yadav had sent home from Saudi Arabia over three decades ago. His handwriting reads: Sender: Ram Dhani Yadav, Saudi Arab (Dammam) Receiver: Sita Devi Yadav, Ward No 3, Chagariya, Nepal </figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112113114_86cc0ffc1a1df040656a31f8876f2d48cc50b6f1f96b4ee8840c2174fce45c98.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2024112113114_86cc0ffc1a1df040656a31f8876f2d48cc50b6f1f96b4ee8840c2174fce45c98" data-rendition-name="original" width="1791" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> </figure>  When I missed my family, I would play the tapes on a Sony that I bought for 60 riyal. When I was alone in my camp dorm, I would record whatever I wanted to tell my family, replay the recording and if it was good enough, I sent it to Nepal with some cash, wrapping it all in layers of cellotape. Every night before going to sleep, I would re-listen to the voices of my family. I kept the player close to my ears at a very low volume as I shared the room with four or five others. Even hearing about mundane everyday things from the village over and over again in the voices of my wife and daughters filled me with joy after work. One day, someone from management said I had a call from Nepal. It was news of my youngest son’s death, and that was a painful moment. He was just 18 months old. In a tape that followed, my family filled in the details: he had died of measles. I responded by recording my own feelings on tape and consoled them.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112410118_9e698ea6b9c7d9806444eed194df1227249003ba5b8644557ebdcef549e7263e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2024112410118_9e698ea6b9c7d9806444eed194df1227249003ba5b8644557ebdcef549e7263e" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> <figcaption>Yadav now talks to his son, who is also overseas for work, through video calls on his mobile phone.</figcaption> </figure>  My company offered to send me home on mourning break for a month. What was the point? My son was already gone, so I could not bring him back. Instead, I grieved on my own in Saudi Arabia before I resumed work. The company was kind enough to pay me my basic wages. During my time overseas, I came home thrice. When I left for Saudi Arabia after my third vacation home, I wept as my mother was in poor health and paralysed. I just could not stay away, so three weeks later I returned to Nepal on a one-way ticket. I brought back my barbershop mirror, and it still hangs on my wall. <div class="embed-block"><div><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.25%;"><iframe src="//cdn.iframe.ly/api/iframe?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fembed%2FDXX3kPW42oc%3Fsi%3DolveYQBO4UYjBKl&key=87ca3314a9fa775b5c3a7726100694b0" style="top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute; border: 0;" allowfullscreen scrolling="no" allow="accelerometer *; clipboard-write *; encrypted-media *; gyroscope *; picture-in-picture *; web-share *;"></iframe></div></div></div> <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/50-diaspora-diaries-in-nepali-times">Diaspora Diaries</a> is a regular column in Nepali Times in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad.

"The first migrant worker from my village"

Quake survivors migrate for work

I was born in Mumbai where my father worked as a watchman. When I was just four years old, my parents decided that it would be best if my mother went back to our home district of Achham in Nepal to take care of our house and farm. And off she went with my one-year-old brother. In her absence, we lived close to his workplace. He worked shifts, and was not always home when I returned from school. I learnt to cook for both of us at a young age, even though I do not consider myself a good cook.&nbsp; From childhood, I had this innate sense of responsibility and completed my homework or rote-learned for exams even when I was not under parental watch.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241101221140_2a8ae15dc440b94aff7a6146e7ce457bb21376cbd206d1ff503e9f83ea2a4334.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241101221140_2a8ae15dc440b94aff7a6146e7ce457bb21376cbd206d1ff503e9f83ea2a4334" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 51 NT"> <figcaption>Bishwokarma was married at 15 to a 13-year-old girl also from Achham who, like him, was also born and raised in Mumbai.</figcaption> </figure>  Growing up around Nepali families in the neighbourhood, I picked up Nepali. Not having a mother figure around, I did not really know what I missed as it had always been that way. My mother and I communicated in letters that were about a paragraph-long without much substance other than basic pleasantries and updates from school. I was more accustomed to my father, with whom I shared a special bond. I married young at 15 to a 13-year old girl who was also born in Mumbai to migrants from Achham. My mother came to my wedding and it was the first time we met after she had left over a decade ago. My mother returned with my wife to Achham where my city grown wife learnt how to do village household chores. Unsurprisingly, she did not like it, but she stayed on for two years. While she was trained by my mother in Achham, I was continuing my school in Mumbai.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241101221140_dbb23b8a76397c7cd7b9b640455a6d0b274d7411e91032a34d118a33d1ac0069.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241101221140_dbb23b8a76397c7cd7b9b640455a6d0b274d7411e91032a34d118a33d1ac0069" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 51 NT"> </figure>  After my wedding, I went to Achham for the first time ever. With no mental image of what it would look like, I did not know what to expect. Life in Nepal took some getting used to but with the visits I grew attached to Nepal and I got familiar with Nepali songs and movies via YouTube. My father eventually moved back to Nepal. My mother needed more help around the house to tend the fields. By then, I had settled down in Mumbai with my wife and four children and worked as a watchman, just like my father. My now-jobless father now depended on me. This put more financial pressure on me. I used to enjoy playing cricket growing up. But when household responsibilities start weighing on you from a young age, there is no space in life for hobbies and passions. By the time I was of age to discover and nurture my interests, I was already worrying about raising my children well.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241101221140_0ccd2cd0e243a5124f13047a2d7caad5df462b2e396745b0381393e385b76301.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241101221140_0ccd2cd0e243a5124f13047a2d7caad5df462b2e396745b0381393e385b76301" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 51 NT"> </figure>  Life in Mumbai is fast-paced. Everyone is running around. My company closed down, and I lost my job. I then bought an autorickshaw, and my daily income varies between INR 700-1,500. I prefer this more than being a watchman, as there is more freedom. It is self-paced, and there is time to rest. There is no boss to order me around. My three sons work as a vegetable vendor, a real estate agent and a cinematographer, and my daughter is a nurse. They also take care of some of the household expenses. What I earn is just for my pocket money and to keep myself occupied. What would I do sitting around idly? If I had a traditional job, I would be retiring in three years after turning 60. But as an autorickshaw driver, there is no end at sight. I will retire when my body demands it.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241101221140_2f370b6e52af5460cfd7b4a4761a557baef3a3b2158cfdaa5ac3bb0bdcd0065b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241101221140_2f370b6e52af5460cfd7b4a4761a557baef3a3b2158cfdaa5ac3bb0bdcd0065b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 51 NT"> </figure>  I don’t interact much with my customers as I have to keep my eye on the road at all times. Mumbai traffic is bad. Sometimes, customers hail three-wheelers like mine when the cars they have booked online do not arrive on time because of traffic. They have meetings to attend or flights to catch, and they are thankful when I stop to pick them up.&nbsp; Other than that, the interactions are quite limited. Most customers are glued to their phones. Some even bring out their laptops. My job is to ensure they reach their destinations. Three years ago, I received a call from Achham about my father’s heart attack. I was arranging my travel to Nepal, but he passed away that night. I still went to Achham for his last rites, and I cannot describe how difficult it was to make that long journey alone while grieving my father’s loss. As I changed buses and trains across India, all I could think about was my father.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024110203118_3da6e8d233ba52600ae4902d65ba754436340d577e6fce5e3c91f39a507866c3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2024110203118_3da6e8d233ba52600ae4902d65ba754436340d577e6fce5e3c91f39a507866c3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1700" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 51"> </figure>  We moved my mother to Gujarat where my brother works as a watchman as we did not want to leave her alone in Achham. Our house there is now empty.&nbsp; Just like I was close to my father who raised me, my brother is close to our mother. My brother and I have never spent more than a few days together because we were separated as children. I visit them in Gujarat once in a while. I have lived a simple and perhaps even a boring life. There have been enough hardships, but nothing that I have not been able to sort out on my own. I have not had to depend on others. God has been restrained in the way he sends me problems. We are all entangled in our own झमेला troubles. Translated from a conversation with the author. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/50-diaspora-diaries-in-nepali-times">Diaspora Diaries</a> is a regular column in Nepali Times in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad. The previous 50 columns can be accessed in this <a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/1uR6pzwfR91KAezRODgDIz2FWI6m2xjPL/view">ebook</a>. Watch video of Harka Lal Bishwokarma <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rusYgB9B3rs">here</a>. <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/rusYgB9B3rs?si=-E3SnyAv00I3ZUm1" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>

“I have lived a simple, boring life”

Just before Dasain this time last year, two young Nepali women were about to leave for Dubai. They were offered jobs to perform at cultural programs, but did not have proper travel documents.
One of them was a friend of Archana Darji, a journalist with our sister publication <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/">himalkhabar.com</a>. As <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/news/142859">she writes in her blog</a>, it was clear they were being trafficked by a gang of recruiters who had paid off Kathmandu airport immigration.&nbsp;
The girls had to support their families, and were determined to go despite knowing the risks. One of them soon returned because she fell sick, and could not bring herself to tell Darji what the work was in Dubai.&nbsp;
One year later, she has once more paid a recruiter for a job in Dubai, and is about to fly off again.
Most of the focus on overseas remittances gives credit to male migrant workers sending money home. The question around migrant women is often why they go despite knowing about exploitation and abuse.&nbsp;
That is the wrong question. We know why. Instead, we should be asking what can be done immediately to ensure safe migration for Nepali women — both in Nepal and in destination countries.
In 2017, following high profile cases of abuse of women domestic migrant workers in West Asia, the government imposed a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/two-decades-of-debate-on-female-migration">blanket ban on female migration</a>. This misguided decision drove recruitment underground, forcing women to take unauthorised channels, increasing the risk of trafficking en route.
Many were stranded in Mumbai or Delhi, and being outside the safety net of Nepali embassies and consulates made their rescue and repatriation difficult.
<a href="https://figshare.com/articles/online_resource/Reducing_Vulnerability_to_Exploitation_of_Nepali_Migrant_Domestic_Workers/26892934?file=48931666">A new study by Brunel University London</a> calls for Nepali women migrants to be given skills-training and language orientation so they can migrate without being trafficked, exploited or abused.&nbsp;
‘The ban overlooks evidence of positive outcomes for Nepali domestic workers and leads to several unintended and damaging consequences,’ the study says, adding there should be ‘concrete reintegration plans for returnee domestic workers at the local level of governance to assure their social, political and economic empowerment’.
The report's author Ayushman Bhagat, lecturer of Political Geography at Brunel, interviewed women including recent returnees in Jhapa. He found them distrustful and angry with the government for making it more difficult for them to migrate.&nbsp;
“Instead of solving structural issues of class, caste, education, these women are having to bear the burden of historical marginalisation,” Bhagat told Nepali Times. “All they want is for their children to not have to lead the same life they did, and migration is the quickest way to their empowerment.”
Many <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/homes-away-from-home">women migrating for domestic work</a> are at greater risk of being cheated by recruiters in Nepal, trafficked en route, and abused in destination countries. Even when they do return bearing the scars of abuse, they leave again out of sheer desperation.
Officially, one in every ten Nepali migrant workers is a woman but many more who are undocumented or migrate to India are not counted. Their <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/female-migrant-workers-hold-up-half-the-sky">contribution to the economy and family income</a> is rarely acknowledged.&nbsp;
This is hardly surprising, given the marginalisation Nepali women face at home, and the double discrimination women of excluded caste and ethnicities experience in society.
Over the years, the government has flip flopped on women migration, introducing shamefully restrictive and ad hoc gender-insensitive rules. One such regulation (<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepali-women-protest-proposed-travel-restrictions">later revoked after outrage</a>, pictured) even required <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/history-of-female-im-mobility-in-nepal">women under 40 to obtain permission letters</a> from male family members and the local government for travel.
Part of the problem is the media’s doom and gloom portrayal of migration that magnifies the negative.&nbsp;
True, there are harrowing cases of abuse and exploitation, and workers are cheated every step of the way, often by their own relatives and recruiters. But Bhagat says there are many other positive outcomes for women workers.
“We must highlight how the women are contributing to society, not everyone is being exploited and frankly to think otherwise is a very privileged mindset,” adds Bhagat.
Nepal’s graduation to middle income country is almost entirely supported by remittances reducing the poverty rate. Many returnees have improved family living standards, and created jobs for other Nepalis.
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/labour-mobility/migrating-for-domestic-work">Restrictions and bans never work</a>. Bhagat has some common sense steps to making migration safer for women: &nbsp;
- Invite all women workers to register with Nepali missions regardless of their status with no repercussion.
- Strengthen the capacity of Nepali missions abroad to help workers in need at dedicated service centres.
- Form government-to-government legally binding arrangements for safe migration.
- Thoroughly vet <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-long-way-to-europe">new labour markets</a> and regulate recruitment at the local levels.
Sonia Awale

Safer migration for women

Sujan Rawat had come to Kathmandu from Karnali in the hope of somehow <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/dead-end-of-the-korean-dream">making it to Korea</a> to pay off family debt. His dreams and that of his family back home was dashed on Friday on the Ring Road in Kathmandu. He was one of the two aspirants hoping to go to Korea who were killed in a police charge at Balkumari in Lalitpur. Applicants for <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Korea-treating-Nepali-migrant-workers-right,2813">Korea jobs</a> had gathered at the Korean Employment Permit System (EPS) office in Balkumari to protest a recent decision that disallowed them from applying for a mandatory Korean language test.&nbsp; The angry protesters set fire to the car of Physical Infrastructure and Transport Minister Prakash Jwala. As the violence intensified, riot police was deployed to control the situation. They charged the agitators with batons as well as firing tear gas and rubber bullets.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20231230121220_c84479e7c80b289e0f55ad48a39f66a1ee042738c90bb63d5465dba6336a8b10.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20231230121220_c84479e7c80b289e0f55ad48a39f66a1ee042738c90bb63d5465dba6336a8b10" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1306" loading="lazy" alt="Balkumari EPS protest"> <figcaption>Protesters set fire to the car of Physical Infrastructure and Transport Minister Prakash Jwala.</figcaption> </figure>  Rawal had left his room earlier in the morning looking for his older brother who had also joined the protest. Having arrived in Kathmandu just a week before, Rawat did not know his way around but managed to reach Balkumari. Rawat was just walking on his side of the road when the police suddenly charged at him, said Roshan Katuwal, a relative. “He wasn’t there to protest, he was minding his own business when the police took him for one of the demonstrators,” he told Nepali Times. “A heavy blow to his chest is what killed him.” Rawat was taken to the nearby KIST Hospital but there wasn't much doctors could do to save his life. “He was brought in unconscious at 12:40PM, he succumbed to his injuries at 1:17PM while undergoing treatment,” Amish Pathak, executive officer of KIST Hospital told us. “He had a blue bruise on his chest.” Rawat had followed his older brother to Kathmandu from Dailekh Bazar where his family ran a small shop. But when his father was diagnosed with a brain tumor, the family could not afford treatment. They incurred debts, the responsibility of which had fallen on Rawat to clear. “His father passed away less than a year ago and now this has befallen the family,” added Katuwal. Rawat has a mother and a younger sister and a brother back home who had all their hopes pinned on Rawat. Rawat himself wanted to continue his studies after completing high school. But his family situation meant he didn't see any other option but to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/delayed-dreams-for-korea-bound-nepalis">migrate overseas</a> to pay off the loans.&nbsp; As soon as he reached Kathmandu, Rawat enrolled himself in a Korean language class and was preparing for the EPS exam. Birendra Shah of Achham was seriously injured in the police charge on Friday, and taken to Patan Hospital but he died during the treatment. The government has announced Rs1 million in compensation for the families of Rawat and Shah, as well as suspension of the key security officials involved until further investigations. The protest was triggered by a notice published by the EPS office which stated that for the applicants to be eligible to apply for the test, they should not have done so in 2023. In many ways, the protest is a representation of the frustration and desperation of the youths against the political system that does not even ensure basic rights and jobs to the people. Oftentimes, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/50-diaspora-diaries-in-nepali-times">labour migration is their only hope</a>. Following the notice, 12 individuals including Tarka Bahadur Paul filed a writ in the Patan High Court on 28 December. The single bench of Judge Chandramani Gyawali gave an interim order not to stop anyone from filling out the application form for the Korean language test, stating that it was a violation of their rights. The court's order states, '...as the petition presented by these petitioners will be addressed during the final hearing, from the point of view of the irreparable damage to the petitioners and inconvenience, it is not reasonable to deprive the petitioners of filling the application form, and interested persons of the same nature as the petitioners...' As per the order, all the agitating youths will now be able to apply for the EPS exam. But Rawat and Shah will have lost their lives in vain. There are about 80,000 <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Korean-kafala-migrants-in-Korea,4025">Nepali migrant workers in Korea’s farms and factories</a> and their situation is better than other countries in the Gulf. Salaries are higher and labour rights are guaranteed. Which is why there is such high demand from Nepali migrants for jobs in Korea. The EPS exam system is supposed to streamline the selection process, but it ended up costing the lives of two promising young lads.

Karnali to Korea dream dashed in Kathmandu

This is the first instalment in a new limited series in Nepali Times on the historic transportation infrastructures of Nepal. Nepal’s Forest Railways As<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/india-s-border-trains-that-connected-nepal"> India’s railway network </a>expanded in the 1890s and 1900s, the demand for wooden railway sleepers, called ‘ties’ in America, likewise increased. The <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/the-rana-reign-a-recap-of-history,3751">Rana regime</a> realised that western Nepal’s dense forests, from which sal trees could be extracted and sold, represented a valuable source of revenue. There was a problem of accessing large tracts of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-tarai-s-shrinking-forests">Tarai forests</a>. However, once Indian railway lines are extended to Nepal’s border in several places, this issue could be resolved by constructing logging railways, also known as ‘tramways’ or ‘light railways’. The Nepal Government awarded a contract to Punjabi timber contractors to supply 15,000 sal sleepers to Chandan Chauki station of India’s Oudh &amp; Rohilkhand State Railway in 1908. The contractors also received a concession to construct a steam tramway to run 48km into <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/reviving-nepals-community-forestry-success-story">Nepal’s forests</a> for cutting and transporting trees. The author found no records, however, indicating that such an ambitious tramway was built in 1908. The hewn logs were probably carried into India by bullock carts or <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/elephants-become-white-elephants">elephants</a>. The earliest known forest railway in Nepal was built in 1914 in the southwestern corner of the present-day Parsa district. A British engineer went to the Indian border town of Bikna Thori to plan a 4-mile portable light railway for the transport of timber from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/on-the-tri-junction-of-wildlife-conservation-conflict-and-co-existence">the forest of Chitwan </a>to the Thori depot on the Bengal &amp; Northwestern Railway. This short line was laid upon wooden sleepers, and its rails could be taken up and repositioned when logging in one section of the forest was completed. This forest railway was in operation at least through 1917.&nbsp; A few year down the line in 1923, J V Collier of the Indian Forest Service built a narrow-gauge railway in Kailali district also to export of timber to India. This line, the Nepal Government Forest Railway, departed Chandan Chauki in Uttar Pradesh and ran 48km northwest into Nepal.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250824150820_84ddef57433c2f847b2c7e56c2d9c924084b6e6a504bbca905d2c593fac8eabd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250824150820_84ddef57433c2f847b2c7e56c2d9c924084b6e6a504bbca905d2c593fac8eabd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1130" height="689" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's little railways"> <figcaption>A Nepal Government Forest train in Kailali District hauling sal sleepers in 1925. Photo: DAVID CHURCHILL </figcaption> </figure>  It was a 2-foot railway supported by 11kg rails. The line was ‘temporary’ in that as sal trees were thinned out in one area, railway tracks were shifted to uncut areas of the forest. The railway crossed seven small <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-what-is-left-of-himalayan-rivers">rivers</a>, but the bridges were taken down during the summer and monsoon. Trains ran only from November to April. This forest railway purchased four 4-6-0T ‘tank’ engines built in Leeds, England. Each bogie could carry 100 broad-gauge sleepers, and two engines were needed to haul a 21-car train loaded with 2,100 sleepers. This huge commercial forest operation once employed about 14,000 men, most of them Indians. During one season, nearly 800,000 broad and metre-gauge sleepers were exported to India. When India suffered a depression in 1930, large scale operations came to an end. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rust-in-peace?fbclid=IwAR1_eg88TCOS6RGRW1af7WvaWx5mzh_rY8-vT1MnJxSs41QtCpaA988oXk8">Rust in peace</a>, Daniel W Edwards  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250824150828_13a0b894b9ea0c478904d358028f0c976d84f284432ee25106787366598d38e5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250824150828_13a0b894b9ea0c478904d358028f0c976d84f284432ee25106787366598d38e5" data-rendition-name="original" width="6000" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's railways"> <figcaption>Rails extended north from this spot into the virgin sal forests of Bardia in western Nepal 100 years ago.  DANIEL W EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  A third railway was built in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-big-bulls-of-bardia">Bardia </a>where some scattered rails and signs of an old roadbed were seen in the 1960s. It ran from Nishangada in India to Khairbhatti in Nepal. From there, stations heading south were Ranipur, Karmak, Taratal and Madhuwan. Collier likely <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-train-project-struggles-to-stay-on-track">built this railway </a>as well in the 1920s. An elderly man in Bardia in 2022, whose father had worked on this forest railway, was interviewed for this account. Kathmandu Valley’s Motor (Trolley) Railway Merchants importing goods from India via the<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/business/ropeways-connecting-nepal,1749"> ropeway</a> Chandra Shamsher built in 1927 had to go to the ropeway’s terminus at Matatirtha near Thankot to claim their goods and then haul them 6km to the customs house Bhansar Adda at Teku for clearance and payment of customs duties. The Motor Railway was built to carry goods from the<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16839"> ropeway station </a>directly to the customs office, making it cheaper and more convenient for merchants to receive their shipments. In December 1931, Prime Minister Bhim Shamsher issued an order (sanad) putting Lt Gen Singha Shamsher Rana in charge of building this rail line to Teku and on to ‘Nabalak Khana’ in Tripureswar, a distance of 10km. The project was subdivided into four sections or ‘phant’, and for each, budgets and timelines were established. There was bato phant (constructing the roadbed), lik sleeper and jordne phant (laying sleepers and joining the rails), culvert phant (installing culverts) and pul phant (building bridges). Colonel Kishore Narsingh Rana was put in charge of the sleeper and rail section, while Colonel Dilli Jung Thapa, an engineer at Ghar Kaj Adda, also was involved. The Motor Railway was completed by the end of 1933. In the beginning, the railway’s small wagons may have been pulled and pushed by men and bullocks. However, in 1938 a British railway manufacturer sent Nepal a four-wheel, 5½ ton, 2-foot narrow-gauge diesel-powered locomotive with mechanical transmission, hence the name motor railway. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-railways-janakpur-test-drive?fb_comment_id=3554227181262227_4263866616964943">Nepal Railways Janakpur test drive</a> Leaving Matatirtha, the trains passed Satungal, Naikap, the Bishnudevi Temple, crossed an iron bridge over Balkhu Khola, then to Ghattepakha, Sunagau, through what is now a section of Kuleshwor (‘Lik Marg’) to the Customs Office at Teku.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250825020852_033f0cee9775d7dadde7811132f84da876f614c386e3677e560ba7aed79909d9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="20250825020852_033f0cee9775d7dadde7811132f84da876f614c386e3677e560ba7aed79909d9" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="railways in Nepal"> <figcaption>Lik Marg in Kuleswor, the former route of the Motor Trolley Railway. Photo: DANIEL W EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  In 1945, Motor Trolley had four engines, but spare parts was badly needed. The charge for transporting one maund (about 40kg) of cargo from Matatirtha to Teku was 50 paisa. Even though the trains ran slowly and only for a short distance, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/fatalism-and-fatalities">accidents were not unknown</a>. A train loaded with rice, salt and cotton derailed on a curve in July 1946, and two railway employees were crushed under the cars and killed, five others were injured. Besides the driver and a brakeman, guards rode the trains to prevent theft of goods.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250824150836_63a327d4db3b067a23dd5c6cf17a31ffe811ffd4a8429bc31011d62298a90060.jpg" data-media-id="editor_17" data-image-id="20250824150836_63a327d4db3b067a23dd5c6cf17a31ffe811ffd4a8429bc31011d62298a90060" data-rendition-name="original" width="6000" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's railways"> <figcaption>The author by the remains of the Balkhu Khola bridge built in 1932 with American steel. Photo: JEEVAN NEPAL</figcaption> </figure>  By 1953, government budget estimates indicated the Motor Railway would break even with an income of Rs70,000 against Rs71,000 in expenditure. It appears the railway stopped service around 1957 with the opening of the Raj Path and the extension of the ropeway from Matatirtha to Bhansar Adda. Bent steel beams of the bridge across Balkhu Khola and two plaques recovered from the river a few years ago are the only remains of this railway today. Photos of the Motor Trolley Railway in operation are hard to come by.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250825020848_3a7cd17d0ffc36bbf5fdad404f5f6e91c7aa0e4f4ed729ed2c7e9c186f32ca9b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_18" data-image-id="20250825020848_3a7cd17d0ffc36bbf5fdad404f5f6e91c7aa0e4f4ed729ed2c7e9c186f32ca9b" data-rendition-name="original" width="5189" height="1979" loading="lazy" alt="railways in Nepal"> <figcaption>Steel plaque commemorating the construction of a Motor Trolley bridge across the Balkhu Khola. Photo: DANIEL W EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  The Kosi Project Railway (KPR) As early as 1941, India and Nepal considered building a dam on<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-kosi-s-sorrow-and-scope"> the Kosi River</a> to prevent destructive floods caused by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/when-it-rains-it-pours-ksqprbu3">monsoon rains</a>. Floods in 1950 inundated 500 villages in Bihar and left 500,000 people homeless. The two governments signed an agreement in 1954 to build a barrage on the Kosi, and King Mahendra and Prime Minister Nehru laid the foundation stone in April 1959. To transport stones from a quarry near Dharan to use in mixing concrete at the construction site, the Indian government, in charge of building the barrage, made plans to build a narrow-gauge railway linking Bihar and its border town of Bhimnagar with Nepal’s settlements at Chakraghatti, Chatra and Ghopa, the outskirts of Dharan.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250824150816_fc5e13b01022c63c64f1e83589da0015eee7ecd002bdd3d97b88c98c1f3d45b7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_21" data-image-id="20250824150816_fc5e13b01022c63c64f1e83589da0015eee7ecd002bdd3d97b88c98c1f3d45b7" data-rendition-name="original" width="4011" height="2645" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's railways"> <figcaption>Steel plaque commemorating the construction of a Motor Trolley bridge across the Balkhu Khola. Photo: DANIEL W EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  The section of the KPR in Nepal totaled 66km — the country’s longest railway to date. The stations south of Chakraghatti were Rajabas, Maduhuwan, Kushaha, Haripur and Bhantabari. The line built, operated and owned by the Indian Government, was opened in 1958 and known locally as Dhunge (stone) Rail. Procuring locomotives, wagons and other materials was a challenge. India’s Railway Board searched the country for old 41 lb rails, and located steam engines, most built around 1910, in poor condition, and stored in ‘retirement’. These decrepit locomotives were later cannibalised for parts to keep the remaining engines running, and six newer locomotives built in Yugoslavia were sent to the KPR in 1960 to prevent the railway from shutting down and halting construction of the barrage.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250824150832_fd644f9e2674c5047a531de5dfeb2c8860b0f93dddc7a2df3db867bf31b2c94b.bmp" data-media-id="editor_22" data-image-id="20250824150832_fd644f9e2674c5047a531de5dfeb2c8860b0f93dddc7a2df3db867bf31b2c94b" data-rendition-name="original" width="3171" height="2069" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's railways"> <figcaption>KPR locomotives, water tank and staff at Chakraghatti in Nepal. Photo: JOHN BENSON</figcaption> </figure>  Used bogie-wagons (gondolas) came from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/india-nepal-rail-diplomacy">Indian railways</a> that had been converted to metre-gauge, others were manufactured in Muzaffarpur without couplers due to the non-availability of steel. A hundred new wagons arrived from Japan, but only half could be put in service, as couplers from the other 50 were removed and attached to the Muzaffarpur wagons. This smorgasbord of equipment kept shop mechanics and work crews busy, but now-abandoned railways in Nepal always operated under less-than-ideal conditions. Although the purpose of the KPR was to transport gravel, stones and boulders to the site of the barrage, photographs show people riding in loaded wagons. Excluding Dharan, there was no bus service through the wild animal infested jungle between Dharan and Chakraghatti or along the dusty paths linking other small villages on the KPR, so patient locals sat in wagons at Dharan, waiting perhaps for hours for trains to depart.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250825020852_7d011dcc8e9b8cb0fe745b352486ebc4a84dac99419eadb35875333db20837c6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_24" data-image-id="20250825020852_7d011dcc8e9b8cb0fe745b352486ebc4a84dac99419eadb35875333db20837c6" data-rendition-name="original" width="3965" height="2659" loading="lazy" alt="railways in Nepal"> <figcaption>Ticketless riders on a train of gravel and stones in the forest between Dharan and Chakragatti in 1966. Photo: JOHN BENSON</figcaption> </figure>  Sons of former railway workers in Chakraghatti say that there were no fixed schedules, three or four trains ran both ways daily in the early 1960s. Southbound trains carried gravel, stones and boulders, while northbound trains would carry coal, cement and provisions, including sacks of coins to pay the workers. Trains even ran at night, and the crews worked long hours. Workers received free housing in project-built tenements but had to buy food supplies and items for personal use. The Babu Saheb or the superintendent lived at Chakraghatti, and at one time supervised more than 1,000 employees, nearly all of them from India. The barrage was completed in 1964, but by 1970, the Kosi Project Railway had passed into history. Daniel W Edwards was a Peace Corps volunteer in 1966 and is the author of several books on Nepal.

Nepal’s five little railways

It was 30 years ago this month that investment into ‘Baby Arun’, the 201MW first phase of the run-of-river Arun III project, was brought to a screeching halt when the World Bank officially withdrew its support. This brought about profound and fundamental changes in the way Nepal’s power sector subsequently developed. Nepalis suffered debilitating power outages between 2008-2016 due to shortages attributable to the cancellation. At the same time, the gap left by Baby Arun was filled by private sector investment in ways that were not obvious in 1995. It took 30 years, but in many ways Nepal’s power sector is more healthy today than it has ever been, and likely better than if the project was built as planned. At a projected budget of $1.08 billion, Baby Arun would have cost the equivalent of Nepal’s entire annual government expenditure in 1995. It was to be funded by concessional grants and loans from multilateral and bilateral funders, including the World Bank, Asian Development Bank (ADB), KfW, and investment by the government itself. At the time, Nepal’s total electricity generation capacity was only 230MW, and the trajectory of the power sector changed dramatically following the cancellation. In the past 30 years, $5.4 billion has been invested in the power sector led by private investors, and much of it from domestic banks and pension funds (table, right).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829150840_c13d6f9f34d7163832b3089eabdad6f20d2d5cef3a53039e0432add2be6c32f0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250829150840_c13d6f9f34d7163832b3089eabdad6f20d2d5cef3a53039e0432add2be6c32f0" data-rendition-name="original" width="984" height="521" loading="lazy" alt="30 years after Baby Arun"> </figure>  Nearly 70% of the new megawatts generated were by private independent power producers (IPP) in the past 30 years, while the Nepal Electricity Authority (NEA) and its subsidiary companies added 30% of new capacity. Almost 80% of total debt financing came from domestic banks and employee retirement funds. International assistance for power generation dropped dramatically over this time, accounting for only about 15% of investment. Before 1995 new power projects used to be entirely dependent on foreign aid. Since 1995, 63% of new generation came from 171 small hydropower projects with an average capacity of 12MW, while 4% was from 21 solar photovoltaic and biomass projects developed by local IPPs.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829150844_5bc299fc78be90b95ce4727b0b3bdaa4542e17e126718cc8725d136630ffc097.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250829150844_5bc299fc78be90b95ce4727b0b3bdaa4542e17e126718cc8725d136630ffc097" data-rendition-name="original" width="988" height="503" loading="lazy" alt="30 years after Baby Arun"> </figure>  Over three decades, investment in Nepal’s power supply came primarily from new actors that had never before been involved in this sector. The rate of electrification rose from 10% to close to 100% -- sufficient to meet domestic needs during most of the year, and in 2024 made Nepal a net exporter of power to India for the first time in its history. As practically all the new investment in this period went into run-of-river hydro and solar projects, rather than into hydropower reservoirs with seasonal storage, Nepal continues to rely on imports from India during the dry winter months. Surplus electricity generation for export during the monsoon is slated to grow rapidly as another 200 solar and hydro projects are nearing completion of construction, with over 5,000MW of power capacity. Private Power The cancellation of Baby Arun inadvertently accelerated the entry of the private sector into Nepal’s power generation. The government enacted the Electricity Act in 1992 to attract private IPPs and diversify away from total dependence from international aid, but had been struggling for several years to conclude the first agreement with the 60MW Khimti Project. There remained a large gap between the tariff that the government thought was reasonable versus what was demanded by the Norwegian investor Statkraft, and the private sector arms of the World Bank and ADB that were financing the project. The shock of World Bank withdrawal from Baby Arun put tremendous pressure on the government, then led by the UML as it is now. The Bank’s decision to terminate its involvement was ostensibly, at least partially, taken in response to a letter critiquing the project sent by the UML while it was in the opposition.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829150848_7fb3641d776fe86a09ad60a758f7e16660a409fdb15e541644f13646b0894347.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250829150848_7fb3641d776fe86a09ad60a758f7e16660a409fdb15e541644f13646b0894347" data-rendition-name="original" width="949" height="446" loading="lazy" alt="30 years after Baby Arun"> <figcaption>BAD NEWS: Newspaper clippings from the early 90s on tender announcement ahead of loan approval (left) and secrecy surrounding environmental assessment (centre) of Arun III before its eventual cancellation in August 1995.</figcaption> </figure>  The government was forced to soften its position and agree to the investors’ terms following the cancellation of Baby Arun. It directed NEA to sign a power purchase agreement (PPA) with Khimti. It was concluded in January 1996, and this was followed by a second PPA in July 1996 with Panda Energy, the American developer of the 45MW Upper Bhotekosi project. The expensive USD-denominated agreements to buy power from two international private producers, with price escalation clauses tied to the New York Consumer Price Index, sent alarm bells ringing. There was worry that the country was heading towards unaffordable tariff rates for the consumer and potential bankruptcy for NEA as a result of inevitable future weakening of the Nepali Rupee. The government had strong-armed NEA into signing these agreements, and realised that concessionary financing terms that Nepal was used to receiving for public sector projects such as Baby Arun and Kali Gandaki A, that included below-market interest rates and 40 years repayment period with a 10 year grace period before starting repayment, were not the norm for private sector investors. Nepal’s status as a less than attractive destination for foreign investment meant that the country had few options but to accept expensive dollar PPAs from international developers with the high commercial interest rates and short repayment periods imposed by their banks because of high investment risks. In the end, the government ended up having to additionally provide a sovereign guarantee in order to close the deal at the insistence of the lenders – committing it to repayment in case NEA defaulted on paying the IPPs. It is reasonable to assume that the extraordinarily high political cost of agreeing to the PPA terms would have meant that no government would have willingly agreed to them in 1995 had it not suffered the trauma of the loss of concessionary-financed public sector projects as large as the Baby Arun. It has taken NEA 25 years to consider offering dollar-denominated PPAs again: to cover the foreign exchange portion of the investment in the 216MW Upper Trisuli-1 and 120MW Rasuwa-Bhotekosi Hydropower projects. It seemed unlikely at the time, but it turned out that the dire situation Nepal found itself in 1995 planted the seed to mobilise investment for affordable power from within the country. Double Whammy After the dual shock of first losing investment in Baby Arun and having to sign expensive power purchase agreements with international IPPs, the first proposal for an alternative strategy to mitigate the risk of foreign currency investment into hydropower projects came from a group of engineers within the Arun III team at NEA. Led by <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4900">Deputy Director Damber Bahadur Nepali,</a> engineers convinced the leadership that NEA needed to invest in a subsidiary company to build a series of locally-designed and domestically-financed projects that would have lower cost with rupee-denominated PPAs. They registered the Chilime Hydropower Company Limited (CHCL) in October 1995 with 51% shares from NEA, 25% from its employees, and 24% available for the general public, 10% of which was prioritised for local residents at the project site. The 22.1MW project is in Rasuwa on a tributary of the Trisuli, and mobilised debt financing from the Employee Provident Fund, which manages retirement savings for employees of the government, public enterprises, and private sector institutions. CHCL’s experience showed that NEA employees themselves believed that individual hydropower projects with operational independence from NEA could be developed profitably in Nepal by its own engineers -- and they were willing to put their own money on the line. Chilime also demonstrated that there was money in the country, particularly with retirement funds, looking for opportunities for long-term investments. Following completion of Chilime in 2003, CHCL led the formation of three other NEA subsidiary companies that completed construction in 2023 and 2024, producing 168.3MW using fully rupee-tied investment. NEA’s largest subsidiary, the Upper Tamakosi Hydropower Limited, completed construction of its 456MW plant in 2021.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829160812_ce9ab8b49c598970db3f5bf0a079061ef52f153b28d9f4ead2bb1b26bfd7c2f3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250829160812_ce9ab8b49c598970db3f5bf0a079061ef52f153b28d9f4ead2bb1b26bfd7c2f3" data-rendition-name="original" width="3000" height="1571" loading="lazy" alt="30 Years after Baby Arun"> <figcaption>DAMNED: The $700 million 456MW Upper Tamakosi built entirely with domestic funds before it was destroyed by the September floods last year. </figcaption> </figure>  There were some delays and cost overruns on this run-of-river project, the largest in the country with a final cost of over $700 million -- all of it sourced domestically. The five subsidiary companies launched by NEA have produced almost two times as much new power as NEA has over the past 30 years. Seven other NEA subsidiaries are currently constructing projects to add another 474MW to the national grid. But even more important than NEA subsidiaries have been local IPPs: Nepali companies which have over the past three decades enthusiastically entered the hydropower sector. From a regulatory perspective, the credit for mobilising domestic private investment to engage in power generation goes to Minister of Water Resources Shailaja Acharya, who in 1998 offered a flat feed-in-tariff of Rs4/kWh for hydropower projects under 10MW. This upfront offer removed a major barrier that early developers had faced of having to spend money to carry out a detailed feasibility study before they could even start tariff negotiations with NEA. She had laid the foundation stone of the Chilime project, and proved to be the champion of opening up the sector for domestic IPPs. The guarantee of a PPA with a fixed tariff, irrespective of project specifications, gave small power developers the confidence to apply for survey licenses and invest in feasibility studies so they could directly approach commercial banks and make a case for their project producing required revenue to repay loans. Domestic IPPs started adding power to the national grid in 2002. Their contribution was initially modest, and first projects were small and commercial lenders who took time to be confident about providing debt financing to a sector which had previously not been considered suitable for private sector investment. While the first 10 years were slow, with less than 10MW being added to the grid each year, this increased twenty fold over the following ten years, resulting in the equivalent of a Baby Arun being added by Nepali IPPs to the grid each year. A total of 84 IPPs added 232MW, 328 MW, 454MW, and 400MW of new generation to the grid in 2021-2024 (graph). There was explosive, exponential growth as domestic developers have surged ahead to account for 76% of the new megawatts added to the grid since 2020, compared to 24% by NEA and its subsidiary companies. The megawatts that IPPs are adding have followed the classic ‘hockey stick curve’ with the ‘breakout point’, signaling the rapid growth phase in 2020. Private producers are expected to accelerate new generation in the coming years with 300 solar and hydropower projects adding 11,000MW. Another 166 hydropower and 96 solar projects are currently in the survey stage, and are in line to add another 11,000MW to the construction pipeline. One major challenge is finding financing required for the projects. Domestic investment will no longer be sufficient to finance this ambitious pipeline of renewable energy projects. Project developers as well as NEA and the Electricity Regulatory Commission will have to leverage their substantial experience accumulated through the construction of over 200 projects to attract regional and international investment and hedge the risks of dollar-denominated PPAs. Following the cancellation of Baby Arun, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/people-power/decentralising-power-in-nepal">Nepal developed a highly distributed power sector</a>. The national electricity grid is currently supplied with power from a remarkably decentralised array of hundreds of hydropower and solar photovoltaic projects spread across 43 districts and all seven provinces.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829150848_0c3aa66b34bfb08380a624f397bf3ebb4126f4d6b41a26115848b496876f501b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250829150848_0c3aa66b34bfb08380a624f397bf3ebb4126f4d6b41a26115848b496876f501b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1228" height="867" loading="lazy" alt="30 years after Baby Arun"> </figure>  This presents a sharp contrast to the pathway of a few large public sector hydropower projects with a sprinkling of private sector projects that was envisioned as part of NEA’s investment planning when Baby Arun was being considered the front runner for investment. The strategy then was to allow public sector investment in a few large hydropower projects with thermal plants to fill the gap. Knowing what we know now about acceleration of climate change impacts and increased extreme weather events, following this path would have made Nepal’s power sector highly vulnerable. Decentralised generation greatly improves the resilience of Nepal’s power supply as damage to power plants in one part of the country need not affect other areas that have their own generation. Following the investment plan where over two thirds of the country’s power supply would have come from power plants on the Arun River, would have greatly imperiled Nepal’s energy security. All rivers in Nepal are susceptible to flooding from cloudbursts made more frequent by climate change. The Arun River which is fed by glaciers in Tibet is also at risk to glacial lake outburst floods. Bikash Pandey is Director of Clean Energy and Circular Economy at Winrock International. People Power is his regular column in Nepali Times on global energy issues relevant to Nepal. <h2>Decentralised and Diversified</h2> In the 30 years since the cancellation of ‘Baby Arun’: Hydropower projects constructed cover capacities ranging from less than 1MW to 456MW and developed by IPPs from across the country with strong local involvement in purchasing equity shares. Renewable energy sources contributed to the generation mix through solar IPPs that further contribute to climate resilience, and cover shortfalls during low rainfall. The government is committed to solar contributing 10% of the power on the grid. Increasing solar beyond this target and providing incentives to project developers to invest in utility-scale battery storage would further improve resilience. BIG ARUN: The 900MW Arun III project under construction since 2018 at Num in Sankhuwasabha (pictured, below) is a separate initiative by a different project developer using a different financing modality. The ‘Baby Arun’ version of Arun III was cancelled in 1995.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250829150852_df534df5166eb5a9bb4cbe101627bdec7ac1df2a405a9d3988d1c86fcc8ecdeb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250829150852_df534df5166eb5a9bb4cbe101627bdec7ac1df2a405a9d3988d1c86fcc8ecdeb" data-rendition-name="original" width="1750" height="1312" loading="lazy" alt="30 Years after Baby Arun"> </figure>

30 years after Baby Arun

Turkish Airlines is official airline partner for the second edition of the Vatsalya Everest Women’s Volleyball League (EWV). The league, scheduled for 5-13 September, will take place in Pokhara and feature 18 international players alongside elite Nepali volleyball talent. The agreement was signed by Turkish General Manager Serkan Başar, and EWV CEO Snevy Chapagain. “Turkish Airlines’ support ensures a seamless journey and adds immense prestige to the league’s goal of women’s empowerment through sports as well as the agenda of sports tourism,” said Chapagain. “We are thrilled to partner with Vatsalya Everest Women’s Volleyball League as the official airline. With this association, we aim to support women role models in sports. We believe this association will connect countries to Nepali volleyball,” remarked Basar.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250825030844_36df66612152abbea71f15579358a2bb0fe797f21cbe7e7c7f28e3fe91655ae4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250825030844_36df66612152abbea71f15579358a2bb0fe797f21cbe7e7c7f28e3fe91655ae4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Turkish"> </figure>

Turkish to sponsor women’s volleyball league

India and China have a long-standing border dispute along their Himalayan border which has erupted in violent skirmishes. But Indian and Chinese officials last week agreed to ignore Nepal’s own border dispute with India to facilitate trade. The Indian Ministry of External Affairs this week flatly rubbished <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/territorialism">Nepal’s territorial claims</a> to the Lipulek Pass and the Kalapani Region, including Limpiyadhura, which Nepal considers as the source of the Mahakali River that forms Nepal’s western border with India. The latest episode in this dispute has come as Sino-Indian relations have thawed after US President Donald Trump slapped <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-and-the-us-india-tariff-tiff">sanctions on Indian exports</a>. The joint communiqué in Beijing said India and China had agreed to resume their border trade through the Nathu La, Sipki La and Lipulek during Chinese foreign minister Wang Yi’s visit to New Delhi. Lipulek is a pass 10 km north-east of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/there-is-precedent-to-settling-kalapani">Kalapani</a> which has been disputed ever since the Survey of India published its 1879 map, where the source of the Mahakali was suddenly shifted from Limpiyadhura to Lipulek.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250826060824_4e68dd5964e0995b91148de9978a1de52b19691e1b01f52a405924fd130c22bd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250826060824_4e68dd5964e0995b91148de9978a1de52b19691e1b01f52a405924fd130c22bd" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="2083" loading="lazy" alt="Lipulek dispute explainer"> </figure>  This tributary of the Mahakali was called the Kali on this map, and is a fordable tributary and not the main channel of the border river. The main Kali River was renamed Kuti Yangdi, and this happened while the British were still in India presumably to gain access to the Lipulek in contravention of the 1816 <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/borderline-disorder">Sugauli Treaty</a>.&nbsp; This subterfuge continued even after India gained independence in 1947. Nepal has maintained that the main channel of the Kali is the border as per the 1816 treaty, when Nepal lost a third of its territory to British India. It is all well and good that India and China are now friendly enough to <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=19447">open border trade</a> routes, but it should not be in violation of Nepal’s territorial integrity. Nepal should be called for diplomatic and political negotiations regarding the Lipulek pass and the Kalapani region comprising Limpiyadhura.&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/when-xi-meets-modi-and-oli">When Xi meets Modi and Oli</a>, Kanak Mani Dixit China and India, but especially the latter, should invite Nepal to discuss these issues and iron out the disputes based on facts and evidence and maps. Nepal had sent seven diplomatic notes to India and three to China so far regarding the Lipulek and Kalapani. India has not responded to any of them. China replied once saying that Nepal and India should sort out their border disputes first before voicing their opinions. Nepal welcomes the recent talks between India and China that it hopes will positively impact on settling border disputes that are mostly stalled since the 1962 Sino-Indian war, the 73-day military standoff over the disputed Doklam region between China and Bhutan, and the 2020 Galwan clash in Ladakh. Nepal’s two large neighbours seem to have come to their senses and realised that it is in their interest to collaborate rather than confront each other when President <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/trump-s-first-month">Trump is acting erratically</a> with threats of sanctions and tariffs.&nbsp; Prime Minister K P Oli should bring up Nepal’s grave concerns about the Lipulek during his state visit to India next month when he will meet Prime Minister Narendra Modi in Bodh Gaya. The two are also expected to meet next week at the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation summit in Tianjin when Chinese President Xi Jinping will also be present. But even before that Nepal should send diplomatic notes to both the Indian and the Chinese governments regarding their agreement to resume border trade through the Lipulek.&nbsp; Here is a timeline of the developments regarding the Lipulek: Sino-Indian Agreement of 1954 This 8-year Agreement on Trade and Exchange between Tibet and India was signed in Peking on 29 April, 1954 by the Chinese Vice-Foreign Minister Chang Han Fu and the Indian Ambassador Nedyam Raghavan.&nbsp; There was no explicit mention on the border settlements either on the Line of Actual Control (LAC) or on Ladakh, although trade and pilgrimage through Lipulek and other 5 passes (Sipki La, Mana Pass, Niti Pass, Kungri Bingri Pass and Dharma Pass) were agreed upon.&nbsp; Trade between Uttar Pradesh state and the Tibet Autonomous Region was through ‘border &nbsp;point of the agreement states: ‘With a view to facilitating the visits of persons engaged in border trade and the exchange of commodities and means of transportation, (India and China) have decided that Lipulek (Qiangla) be the border pass for the entrance and exit of the said persons, commodities and means of transportation from the two sides.’ The agreement expired on 6 June 1962 during the Sino-Indian war, and the two sides did not renew it. Bilateral ties started to normalise only in the 1990s with the Indian decision in 1988 to abandon its policy of settling ‘territorial issue’ for ‘normalisation of relations’. India There was no reaction from Nepal to the 1954 agreement since Nepal did not have diplomatic relations with China yet at the time. Sino-Indian Agreement of 2005 The Political Parameters and the Guiding Principles for the Settlement of the Sino-Indian Boundary Question is detailed in 11 Articles, which outline the steps to be taken for a Peaceful and Tranquil Border. The agreement was a direct outcome of the Special Representatives mechanism that had been set up through a 2003 agreement. It also incorporated the Confidence Building Measures in Military Field along the Line of Actual Control (LAC) in the Sino-Indian Border Areas signed in 1996.&nbsp; A protocol on Modalities for the Implementation of Confidence Building Measures in the Military Field along the Line of Actual Control in the India-China Border Areas signed during Chinese Premier Wen Jiabao’s India visit, which stated in Clause 2 of Article 5: ‘Both sides agree to extend in principle to expand the mechanism of border meeting points to include Kibithu Dhamal in the Eastern Sector and Lipulek Pass (Qing La) in the Middle Sector. The precise locations of these border meeting points will be decided upon mutual consultations.’ Nepal’s Foreign Ministry issued a statement in 2005 stating that Nepal had asked China about the issue and the Chinese Embassy clarified that the agreement had nothing to do with Kalapani. This was perhaps the first time that Nepal had objected to the Sino-Indian agreement on Lipulek. King Gyanendra had staged a coup d’état on 1 February 2005, just two months prior to this agreement. The Nepali press voiced criticism of China in particular for disregarding the country’s sentiment.&nbsp; Sino-Indian Agreement of 2015 India and China signed several documents during the state visit of Chinese President XI Jinping to India on 18 September 2011. Number one on the list was: ’Opening a New Route for Indian Pilgrimage (Kailash Mansarovar Yatra) to the Tibet Autonomous Region of the People’s Republic of China’.&nbsp; The Indian foreign ministry stated: ‘The MoU provides for conducting the annual Kailash Mansarovar Yatra through Nathula Pass in Sikkim in addition to the existing Lipulek Pass in Uttarakhand’. On May 15, 2015, China and India issued a Joint Statement during Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s visit to China. Point 28 under the ‘Trans-border Cooperation’, states that the two sides agreed to ‘hold negotiation on augmenting the list of trades commodities, and expand border trade at Nathu La, Quingla/Lipulek Pass and Sipki La Pass’. Nepal’s objection to the 2015 agreement was stronger than in 2005. Prime Minister Sushil Koirala called up Narendra Modi to express Nepal’s displeasure It was not until 2020 that Nepal’s Foreign Minister disclosed that ‘Nepal had expressed its disagreement in 2015 through separate diplomatic notes addressed to the governments of both India and China … including Lipulek Pass as a bilateral trade route without Nepal’s consent.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250826060824_d4497e2620bba81211d27e427393974877e09006abc26e13055508996e5b29ea.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250826060824_d4497e2620bba81211d27e427393974877e09006abc26e13055508996e5b29ea" data-rendition-name="original" width="1108" height="1550" loading="lazy" alt="Lipulek dispute explainer"> </figure>  The new political map of India published by the Survey of India in November 2019 that incorporated areas east of the Kali River including Kalapani as Indian territory sparked renewed public, and political, attention to the Mahakali dispute. The Nepal government then countered by formally approving the publication of the new Political and Administrative Map of Nepal including all territories lying to the east of the Mahakali River on May 18, 2020. In June, the House of Representatives unanimously endorsed the second amendment to the Constitution of Nepal to update the country’s new political map in the national emblem. Sino-Indian Consensus of 2024 A 6-point Consensus on Peace and Tranquility on the Line of Actual Control (LAC) was agreed on December 18, 2024 between the Special Representative of the People’s Republic of China, Wang Yi, and the Special Representative of the Republic of India, Ajit Doval.&nbsp; India has not denied that this is a consensus, while China made it clear that this was not a Joint Statement. This Consensus is in line with the 2005 agreement, and was agreed during the 23rd round of the Special Representatives talks held after a gap of five years aimed at restoring bilateral ties frozen because of the military standoff in Ladakh. The agreement included: cross-border communication and cooperation, promoting the resumption of pilgrimages by Indians to Xizang, cooperation on crossborder rivers, and trade at the Nathu La Pass. Nepal made no reaction to the statement despite Lipulek being the pilgrimage route for Mansarovar and Kailash.&nbsp; Prabhakar Sharma is a construction engineer and an international border expert who has worked as a survey engineer for the Cameroon-Nigeria border demarcation by the United Nations.

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